This Is Real
by sepiadreams67
Summary: When remnants of memories on the job begin to haunt Ariadne, the infallible point man is there to remind her of where she truly is.


**Hello! This is a fic that, while cliche, had been running through my mind for a while before I finally wrote it down. I know that all I ever write about is Arthur and Ariadne, but after this, perhaps I'll move on and find some other OTP to write fics about. :)**

**Also, I apologize in advance for how rushed this story seems. Oops.**

* * *

As soon as Ariadne stepped off that plane, she was alone amidst a group of strangers—exactly what the job entailed. The last ten hours on the plane never happened.

She grabbed her luggage from the carousel and weaved in and out of crowds, making her way to the exit. Her totem was clutched in her hand to serve as a constant reminder that it was, in fact, reality. Not that Ariadne was too sure of it at the moment.

The next half hour passed in a blur, starting with her leaving the airport and ending with her at the nice hotel she booked for a few days to crash. By the time she reached the lobby of the hotel, her hands were shaking from anxiety. Everything was quickly melding into a surreal haze.

* * *

"_Here, in case you ever need it."_

_Ariadne's fingers brushed against the point man's as he slipped a contact card into her hand. He gave her a soft smile, which seemed to be the best he ever had to offer._

_She looked down at the card. On it was simply a number and the letter "A."_

"_Thanks," she replied shyly, suddenly intimidated by the graceful and orderly man standing in front of her._

"_Don't hesitate to call me, Ariadne."_

* * *

Once inside her small room (drawing attention by spending lavishly was something she could not do), Ariadne tossed her things on the floor by the wall and collapsed on the bed with her totem in hand. Stretching across the bed to reach the quaint bedside table, she carefully placed and toppled it once, twice, and then again a third time. She was not dreaming.

Her mind could only focus on Mal's twisted smirk as she recalled the details of her deep and dangerous love for Dom Cobb. _Do you know what it is to be a lover? Half of a whole?_

* * *

She was falling. The world was crumbling away around her. The voice of a broken notion rang in her ears. _"You're waiting for a train…"_

The water was swiftly robbing her of oxygen. Darkness shrouded her vision. She was lost. She could not be saved.

* * *

Still falling. Still drowning. There was a lingering ache in her chest, and she briefly wondered if it had to do with the drowning or just the sheer panic weighing her down. Probably both.

Even worse, Ariadne had no idea whether she was dreaming or not. She could not recall falling asleep, though with her state of exhaustion, it was likely she had—unless she was delusional. The thought terrified her. She was beginning to wonder if she ever truly made it out of limbo. The buildings she saw crumbling and the grimace of a crazed shade were telling her otherwise.

Maybe oblivion was real. Maybe she was sinking.

With that notion playing like a broken record in her mind, Ariadne realized she needed to reach out to someone. The teammates were not supposed to contact one another, for the risk of being caught—while not great—was just one they could not bear to take. In that moment, however, she wondered if maybe the risk was worth it.

So, with her decision made, she called the first person who came to mind—the only person who had even bothered to offer her a way of communication. She picked up her phone and the small card, her fingers trembling as she struggled to dial the digits.

It rang once.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end sounded exhausted, but somehow Ariadne knew that the point man had not been sleeping either.

Her voice, despite her best efforts, wavered as she responded. "Arthur." It was all she could manage. He clearly sensed her distress, because instantly, he went into cool, collected point man mode. "I'll be there soon."

She didn't even want to know how he was able to tell where she was at in that moment, but at the same time, she didn't care.

Five minutes later—the point man had a respectable definition of _soon_—there was a knock. Ariadne couldn't quite recall crossing the room, but before she fully grasped what she was doing, she was standing at the door.

As soon as she opened it, Arthur's mask of indifference was replaced by one of apprehension. "Ariadne?"

She nodded and turned to cross the room, encouraging him to follow. She took a seat at the table in the corner of the room, and Arthur followed suit by taking the seat opposite hers. Ariadne began twisting her hands awkwardly, trying to find any words to say.

"I'm sorry for—"

Arthur stopped her short by simply saying, "It's fine."

He looked at her expectantly, which she took as her cue to begin explaining her situation.

She found herself crying. The silent tears running down her face stung. "I just… every time I close my eyes, it's her. It's limbo. I'm drowning, and there's no way to save me." Had she not felt so completely _broken _in that moment, she would have been embarrassed by her raw display of emotion.

For a moment, Ariadne was sure she caught a glimpse of some unrecognizable reaction on his face—like anguish—but it was gone before she could pinpoint it. He was almost fully unwavering, unreadable.

"Limbo?" he asked quietly.

She visibly froze, stunned by the realization that he had never been informed that the young, amateur architect had fallen into the deepest depths of the subconscious mind. She was treading dangerous waters, for she knew that Arthur would have vehemently rejected the idea had he any say in the matter beforehand.

All she could give as an explanation was, "I had to help Cobb."

The point man tensed, clearly upset. It seemed to be one of the few emotions he knew how to express. She looked down in shame. She sought comfort and had only dug herself into a hole.

Arthur's response came as a whisper, effectively surprising Ariadne.

"Why?" he murmured. The look on his face was heartbreaking. "Why did he let you?"

Ariadne assumed he was referring to Cobb, the man who truly needed their help during the inception. Despite her subsequent suffering, she did not regret her decision to follow him into that awful, beautiful place. She could not let a teammate down, and she would have never forgiven herself if they lost him.

Encouraged by the thoughts racing through her brain, she replied, "I chose to do it. He needed someone, Arthur. He couldn't do it alone." She flinched as Mal, the hateful shade of Cobb's wife, crossed her vision again. Exceedingly perceptive even with an exhaustion-addled mind, Arthur noticed it.

"Ariadne."

With a hitch, she blurted, "I'm still in limbo." She felt the tears falling on her trembling hands. She didn't mean to say it. The point man's mask disappeared, leaving him looking as shattered as she felt.

"No, you're in reality. This is real. I'm real. You're real," he said with a steady voice. The distressed look was gone, wiped away by the confidence of his words. He looked calm again, and Ariadne wondered how anyone could change their aura so quickly. She supposed that it was a good skill for an infallible point man.

He glanced at her bedside table in search of something. When he spotted it, he uttered, "Your totem." His dark eyes cut back to hers with an intensity that forced Ariadne to look back at her hands.

"I'm afraid."

He reached out and touched her hands, sending fire throughout her body. It was unlike the normally distant point man. She looked at him with wide eyes. "Ariadne, please believe me," he said firmly. "You're safe now." The warmth in his eyes was spreading to her.

She took a deep breath. "Okay." She then realized that she had not once touched her totem since he arrived.

Arthur smiled a warm and whole smile. His eyes held awe, and for what, Ariadne did not know. "You need rest," he said as if it was an afterthought.

With a soft sigh, she picked herself up and walked towards her bed. She was already dreading sleep. Arthur got up and began heading for the door, and Ariadne then noticed that he was clad only in navy blue pajama pants and a white tee shirt.

"Wait," she called out.

He turned on his heels and looked at her intently. She felt small under his gaze and almost regretted the words that would follow.

"Will you stay?"

"Of course."

At that point, Ariadne couldn't contain the smile that crept across her face. She curled up on her bed and pulled the blankets up as Arthur pulled the chair over to sit next to her.

When she fell asleep, she no longer dreamed of limbo.


End file.
